


A Night at the Oscars

by Saki (Albione)



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, RPF - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Future Oscars, Happy Ending, M/M, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 13:16:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albione/pseuds/Saki
Summary: As Timmy attends the 100th Academy Awards, he thinks of the past.





	A Night at the Oscars

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr someone asked “How do you imagine Timmy and Armie declaring their love to the world?” So here is my small contribution.  
> Of course, I do not know them (woe is me) and all this is the result of my imagination.

As Timmy looked into the mirror he noticed the silver hairs his groomer had mentioned. He did not have the courage to touch them, afraid to mess up the fine work she had done with his curls.  
“You could just colour in the stray white hairs as they appear” she had said casually.  
He thought of his father’s thick head of gray hair and smiled; he would be a silver fox and hopefully stop being an internet boyfriend.

The black tux fitted him as a glove, Haider had gifted him a masterpiece as usual; the fine silver threads ran into complex floral designs, only visible as he moved catching the light.

In the car he read the texts all his loved ones sent, wishing him the best; it was not his first Oscar nomination and he had learnt to stifle his hopes and squash disappointment.  
He had learnt so much from his first nomination all those years ago, too much.

Armie beside him, holding him. “Shine, shine!” he had told him; but he could only shine beside him, or so he had thought.  
The months beside him, the love he had felt and the realisation that it was not one sided, to be able to feel that again, the first kiss in Rome, their first night.  
To feel all that again, and again, without the guilt when seeing Elizabeth arrive the next morning. 

Timmy glanced at Brian sitting beside him; he was looking ahead with a slight frown. Poor Brian Timmy thought, all I put him through during the years.  
“Are you nervous Timmy? This is your year, whatever happens tonight.” Brian gave him a reassuring look.  
“No, not nervous, just a bit tired and excited. The usual!”  
They both smiled at each other.

When Brian and Evelyn found out that he and Armie were having an affair they both had a fit, quite rightly. He was risking his career just as it was starting.  
Brian managed to find a girlfriend for him, as well as a role that kept him away from Armie for six months.  
Strange how the distance just made the longing stronger, as soon as he was back in New York he rushed into Armies arms.  
“I was so young…” Timmy thought.

Armie was not happy with the Lily ruse. “But you are married Armie, why are you upset that I am photographed with her?”  
As Armie just stayed silent Timmy wanted to shout “You are never leaving Liz, are you?”  
He never could understand this, and he supposed it was the beginning of the end.  
Now he knew that a marriage is not easy to untangle, that kids are more important than a passion; the children did not choose to be born.

As he got out of the car he heard fans calling his name; he automatically turned towards them and smiled.  
The red carpet, the meaningless questions asked by reporters, the photographers calling him to turn and look in ten different directions at once; he can do it all automatically now without thinking. Just a slight playing with his ring always shows that the nervousness never quite went away.

He remembered the room in the Bowery hotel, the large bed and Armie’s arms around him. He kissed his cheek feeling the bristles of his unshaven skin against his lips. It is strange how the senses remember everything.  
But he tried to forget the conversation, for years he just wanted to remember the warm embrace, not the cold words.

“I cannot divorce Timmy, not at the moment. It would look bad.”  
“But I cannot continue like this, the guilt is killing me Armie.”  
“I know. Sorry…”  
Armie looked away from him.

He sat down at his assigned seat and looked round the large hall filling with known faces. It would be a long night, he wondered if he should train his “not disappointed but happy for the winner” expression. But he had used it so many times it almost came naturally.  
He greeted Lucas and they chatted for a bit.

The BAFTAS in 2019 were a nightmare; he knew he was just doing presence but he was good at that; what was going on in his personal life was hard.  
He had waited to see Armie, hoping against all odds that there was something to salvage.  
Elizabeth was as usual gracious, Timmy wondered how much she knew; sometimes he felt she knew too much but was practical. Armie was distant.  
And when he saw him wearing the sweater they shared while kissing his wife at St Valentine’s, he realised that there was no hope. It was a message to him, but if it was “I am thinking of you” it was too late; it did not matter any longer. Timmy was tired of the hiding and the guilt.

“Never contact me again!” He felt so free as he sent Armie the text.  
Armie never did.

As the 100th Academy Awards started, Timmy slowly sunk into his seat; he placed his slightly attentive expression onto his face.  
The last few years had been a ride. Dune had been such hard work, he had dated Zendaya for a couple of years; she had helped him so much, papering over the hurt, reminding him how to laugh again.  
Still now she was a good friend.

He had been dreading the sequel for Call Me By Your Name, but would never let Luca down, after all his second Oscar nomination, and first BAFTA win, had been for Blood on the Tracks. Parallel Lives had been much easier to film than he thought, after all Elio and Oliver did not interact at all; but the promotion brought him into contact with Armie again.  
They were both good actors, only a few dedicated fans noticed the distance between them.  
Armie had finished filming Batman and should have been at the top of the world, but he was subdued.  
Timmy would have liked to talk to him, really talk, but the wall of silence the had both erected was too high.  
After the London Film Festival, after the questions and answers, he went to a club in Soho and picked up the first good looking guy that struck his fancy.  
Poor Evelyn, goodness knows what she had to do to make the photos of him making out with that guy disappear. They were never published, but the fear of them being so one day made him very careful.

“Nervous Timmy?” Florence whispered. He looked at his co-star and fellow nominee.  
“No, used to it, and you Flo?”  
“Naa, three gin and tonics in the hotel room took care of nerves.”  
He took her hand and squeezed it. Thanks to Flo he met Joe, he had loved Joe.  
He went out with him in public with Florence, or Saoirse; none suspected anything, just a group of friends.

But Joe wanted more, wanted to be able to kiss his lover in public, live together, be official. Timmy could not.  
“Think of your career Timmy, you can think of being open once you are established.”  
But what did Brian mean being established? He had been nominated for awards many times, could now choose the roles he wanted; what else did he need?

“Timothée be who you want to be, as an actor you have so many choices, like a reader, you can live a thousand lives.” François had told him at Cannes; he walked the red carpet as tall as possible, he was an actor first of all.  
He tried to forget he had watched Armie as Batman in the plane; he had avoided the movie till then, but as he pressed the play on the screen he knew he was back at the start line.

Nobody was surprised when Armie and Elizabeth divorced; work commitments that kept them apart was the official reason. Gossip sites were hinting at his drinking problem, the Batman curse they called it.  
Timmy was in his new flat in New York when he read the news; some of his old friends were there. None knew about him and Armie. So few knew, he had kept it to himself as a sordid secret. But Will realised something was wrong; of course Will would have been the one to notice.  
“Tim, what’s wrong?” The concern he saw in his friend’s eyes just made him cry.  
“Nothing, I am just tired…”

“Just tired”; it had been his answer to most questions during the years.  
The presenter had started to tell the unfunny jokes; the cameras were filming the public’s reactions. Timmy smiled.

Evenings with friends drinking and smoking pot, laughing at silly things; days working or studying for a part. Nights feeling alone. Each day that felt the same, a blur of years.

“And the best actress nomination goes to…”  
He felt Florence stiffen and then relax; her expression of “happy for the winner” was a masterpiece, she deserved the Oscar just for that. Timmy bumped her shoulder and she giggled.  
“That sucks, Timmo, really thought it was mine!”  
“You were robbed Flo, and we all know it!”

He pretended to listen to the acceptance speeches, but his mind wandered, as usual.  
“I’ve been thinkin’ bout you, do you think about me still?”  
The lyrics were as actual as the first time he had associated them to Armie so many years ago; he never really forgot, how could he?

It was at Frank’s apartment in New York when he realised that the lyrics still hurt him too much.  
Sitting on the couch with Zendaya’s head on his lap, it was a quiet evening among friends. Frank had just said “Happiness and pleasure are not the same as joy.”  
He was happy, he had seeked and found pleasure, but when was the last time he had felt joy?  
He sent a text that night, hoping the number was still the same one. “Tregua?”

“And the award for the best actor in a leading role…”  
Timmy looked up, stifling all his emotions.  
“Timothée Chalamet!”  
He felt Florence hug him, people all around him were clapping, helping him up, patting his back.  
As he stepped onto the stage he turned to look at the full auditorium.  
“Is this established enough Brian?” he wondered.

He held the gold statue, it felt so light in his hands.  
He searched the public; he could see him sitting at the back, so tall and handsome.  
“Shine Timmy, shine, it is your night. I will be there as always.” 

“Thank you so much for this honour. I have to thank Christopher that wanted me in the role of Peter and Florence that put up with me. I thank all the cast and my family. Fuck, sorry, I need a day to really thank everyone… and I need to stop swearing.”  
He bit his lip, he could feel his knees tremble, what he was going to say wasn't just about him, but they had discussed it and agreed that it that they did not want to hide any longer. Too much time had been lost, they did not want to make the same mistake. Not when there were no obstacles.  
“I also need to thank the person who has brought joy back into my life. Joy bubbles from within, it colours the day and it is such, such… a rare feeling that cannot be confused with happiness or pleasure, I mean I have been... I am happy, but... Armie, thank you for being my friend and lover, I love you!”


End file.
